Hogwarts and the Hyperion
by Rulerofwords
Summary: Sex. Love. Centaur hookers. Thestral raccoons. SCVs. Monocles of destruction. Hermione. Jim Raynor. Zerglings. Hogwarts students vs. zerglings. The Hyperion. And a love that transcends dimensions. This story has everything you want . . . and more.
1. Chapter 1

_Authors' Note: This collaboration is by two artists, who are striving to make the world of fanfiction a little better by fusing ideas together in never before imagined ways. Please, don't take this too seriously. We are out to have fun and perhaps elicit a few laughs from our readers._

**Chapter I**

"I can't stand you anymore, Harry!" Hermione shrieked at the mustachioed, monocle-wearing young man standing before her on the tallest tower of Hogwarts. "You've changed so much in the past three years ever since you've defeated Lord Voldemort!"

"Whatever do you mean, my dearest Hermione? I'm the same as ever."

"But why the moustache, the monocle, the cane, _and_ the top hat?" Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "It's absolutely ridiculous."

"Preposterous! These are necessary changes! Ever since I defeated Voldemort, I've needed to keep up my appearance for the masses!"

"See! You're even acting all uppity now! Like you're better than all of us!"

"Preposterous, Hermione!"

"You don't think about anyone else anymore, Harry. Ron's barely been able to see you recently, and he's gone bloody nutters!"

"'Nutters'? That's a rather strong word, Hermione. I don't think it's nearly that bad . . . ."

"Nearly that bad!" Hermione yelled, her face flushing red with anger. "He's taken to living in his mother's closet, muttering to himself while clutching his knees, whispering ancient aboriginal incantations! And yesterday, I saw him propositioning a centaur hooker in the forest behind his home! I had to physically drag him away from her!"

"Hermione! Could it be that you're jealous?"

Hermione could scarcely believe her ears. "Harry, it was a _centaur _hooker. That's not natural!"

"Preposterous! Hermione, don't you remember the time when Voldemort ruled the Ministry of Magic?"

"Of course I do! That wasn't all too long ago. What of it?"

"Well, what was one of Voldemort's policies when he was in power?"

"Harry, I have no idea what this has to do with centaur hookers . . . ."

"Voldemort believed in the absolute superiority of wizarding kind. Am I correct?"

"Well, yes." Hermione said slowly, still having no idea where this conversation was heading.

"Don't you see, Hermione? You are discriminating against non-wizarding kind! And I thought that after all the work you did for house elves you were above this petty kind of hatred!"

"I don't hate centaurs, Harry! I just don't want them having bizarre sex with my Ron!"

"Preposterous! Your words show your most deeply buried feelings for the centaurs. You think that they are inferior to you. Soon, you'll be finding excuses to discriminate even further against them. And where does this line of reasoning end, Hermione? Concentration Camps? Azkaban? Gas chambers!"

Harry clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Ironic that it is I with the moustache, when it is you who has the seeds of genocide growing within your soul!"

"Preposterous!" Hermione said this time, her rage causing her face to flush an even deeper shade of crimson. "I have nothing against centaurs. But I don't want my Ron committing bestiality! I love him too much for that!"

Harry shook his head sadly. "Hermione, Hermione. Your bigotry is evident even in your choice of words. 'Bestiality,' you say? They are not beasts, for they are capable of reason! Let Ron have his fun among the centaurs! It will help foster better relations between wizards and non-wizards. Ron is merely thinking of the future well-being of our society! He is striving for a world of peace, free from all prejudices."

Hermione scowled at Harry. He didn't understand her feelings. How could he? He couldn't see past that oversized walrus moustache of his, nor through that ridiculous monocle he wore with such vanity. And now Ron couldn't understand her either. When he wasn't lurking in his mother's closet muttering to himself and drooling, he was out trying to screw centaurs!

Hermione never felt so alone in her life.

"Harry, you're an asshole!"

"Preposterous!"

Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes and turned away, heading for the spiral staircase.

"Preposterous!"

Hermione rushed to Harry, rage threatening to explode inside of her. "You know what's preposterous, Harry! You are!"

Hermione smacked Harry on his cheek, knocking his ridiculous top hat off his head.

Harry bent over to pick up his fallen top hat. "Sorry, my dear Hermione. I wasn't referring to you. I was referring to that rather peculiar assortment of creatures gathering at the border of the Forbidden Forest over there."

Hermione sighed as she tried her best not to kill Harry then and there. Then she looked into the direction Harry had been looking and saw precisely what was so preposterous.

"I don't believe I've ever seen any of those creatures before."

"Neither have I, my dear Hermione."

Hermione studied the odd creatures carefully. "It also looks as though they're arranging themselves into formations. Like they're preparing for battle."

Harry trained his eye on them as well. And then he gaped at the unusual sight.

"Preposterous!"

**Chapter II**

"I don't have a good feeling about this, Harry." Hermione said, a sinking feeling in her stomach beginning to grow.

Her fear only increased when she saw the bizarre creatures bounding towards the castle.

"We've got to make haste to the castle gate, Hermione. I don't like the looks of this!"

Harry sped towards the stairway, and Hermione ran after him, her heart racing wildly. Something in the air wasn't quite right; it was both dark and uncertain, like a black veil had fallen over reality, obscuring a great presence that had yet to be revealed. Or maybe she was letting her troubled emotions about Ron affect her judgment about everything else.

Then she heard high-pitched, blood-curdling screams emanating from the entrance of the castle.

Perhaps she wasn't imagining things after all.

Harry and Hermione quickened their pace, practically tripping and falling face-first down the stairs in their effort to reach the source of the screams as quickly as possible. When they finally arrived, complete and utter carnage met their eyes.

The students downstairs had obviously been caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the creatures. Blood and chunks of human flesh littered the corridor. The air was thick with the iron stench of blood, emptied bowels and bladders of the deceased. The beasts seemed to be everywhere, pouncing with incredible speed on anyone who looked even remotely vulnerable or weak. Those who hadn't already been torn to shreds were desperately fending for their lives, but only with moderate success.

Hermione gaped. These creatures were unlike anything she had seen or even read about. And she had read quite a few books in her time.

The slobbering monsters were about the size of a jaguar, although they lacked fur and resembled overgrown insects more than any feline. Their eyes glinted red with malicious glee as they sliced through the students with their razor-sharp claws that protruded from tentacles attached to their backs. Their jaws seemed to be locked in a permanent and ferocious grin, with tusks flanking the sides of their jaws. They moved like cheetahs, bounding and pouncing on all four of their legs, with their spiked tails undulating behind them. Their dark tan carapaces gleamed in the torchlight. These creatures appeared to be designed for the sole purpose of killing and delighting in every gory second of it.

Hermione pointed her wand at the nearest beast, and a fiery wolf exploded from the tip of the wand, howling as it honed in on the blood-thirsty creature. In a mere matter of seconds, the wolf engaged its adversary and tore the creature apart.

Harry, however, was having difficulties. Each one of his stupefy spells rebounded off of the creatures' carapaces, sometimes stunning random students instead of the monsters.

Hermione sighed. Honestly, when would Harry learn to use spells other than the most basic ones he'd learned years ago? He had all the magical might of a rabid rabbit.

"This is preposterous!" Harry sputtered.

"Harry, use summoning spells!" Hermione hollered amidst the fray of combat. "Those are more effective!"

"Summoning what now?" Harry asked confusedly. "Is that like a Patronus or something?"

"Harry, I don't think that'll work in this situation!"

"Hmph. Preposterous!" Harry flourished his walking stick which now functioned as his wand. His customary silver white stag leapt from it and charged the intruders, doing little more than making them hesitate for a moment before continuing to slaughter the students with hideous delight.

"I told you it wouldn't work, Harry!" Hermione shouted, her frustration beginning to build. Maybe it would be better just to stun Harry then and there so she wouldn't have to worry about friendly fire.

"Die, yer beasties of Hell!" Hagrid suddenly shouted from the castle entrance, brandishing his new, metallic automatic crossbow he had just purchased at Bob's Hunting Shack during his recent trip to southern Kentucky. A hail of crossbow bolts whistled through the air, striking almost every beast with pinpoint accuracy. But this display of Kentuckian technological prowess only served to enrage the creatures more. They darted towards Hagrid, rage evident in their inhuman, blood-red eyes.

But this didn't intimidate Hagrid in the slightest. He tossed aside his crossbow and crouched down in a wrestler's stance. His eyes blazed with such rage that even the monsters paused before they could leap at him.

"Are ye afraid, yer scaly bastards?" Hagrid roared, spit flying from his lips. He flexed his muscles, causing his humble shirt to explode in a rain of cheap fabric, exposing his bulging pecks and rippling abdomen.

The monsters began to edge away nervously from this unfettered display of masculinity. But Hagrid did not let them complete their retreat. He struck first, tearing towards the nearest beast and ripping off its head with one smooth motion, as if he had been fighting the creatures for years.

Hagrid continued his rampage, as if he were the very harbinger of death itself. But despite his monumental strength and brutality, there were simply too many of the little monsters. They began to swarm him, inflicting some minor wounds on him. Even the mighty half-giant appeared to be on the verge of being overwhelmed.

"No, Hagrid!" Harry shouted, more desperate and emotional than Hermione had heard him in months. "I'll save you!"

Oh, no, thought Hermione. This won't end well.

"It's monocle time!" Harry adjusted his monocle with newfound confidence. Suddenly, a brilliant light shot out from his monocle striking each of the beasts, which subsequently disappeared in a blinding flash of energy.

Suddenly, Hagrid was standing alone. His chest stained with the blood of the monsters, accentuating his already naturally manly aura.

"Harry?" asked Hagrid, confused. "What did ye do with the bastards?"

"I tore open a portal through the fabric of space and time itself!" Harry announced proudly. "They shall never trouble us ever again!"

"But . . . Harry . . ." Hermione asked tentatively. "Where and when, precisely, did you send them?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. I doubt it matters much, though."

"Uh-oh," Hermione groaned.

"Well, thanks fer saving me," said Hagrid. "Fer a second, I thought I was going ter be nibbled ter death."

"Anytime, Hagrid!" Harry chuckled and then looked at the blood, organ, feces, urine, and chunks of flesh scattered across the floor and sticking to the ceiling. Harry sighed sadly. "I think I'll need a broom."

Harry strode over to the broom closet, which was conveniently located nearby. When Harry opened the closet door, he gasped in astonishment.

"Ron! Whatever are you doing in this broom closet?"

Ron seemed not to register Harry's presence. He gazed vacantly ahead as he stepped out of the closet and proceeded to stand in the middle of the room.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked and ran towards him. "You've left your mother's closet. I'm so proud of you!"

When Hermione threw her arms around him, she sensed something was terribly wrong. And it had nothing to do with his blank, empty eyes, nor anything to do with his tangled, shoulder-length hair that seemed to have the remnants of a bird's nest in it. It also had nothing at all to do with the putrid stench emanating from the tattered knee-length robe he was wearing.

No. Something much more terrible than Ron's repulsive appearance and smell troubled Hermione. His fundamental Ron-ness had disappeared entirely.

"So," Harry outstretched his hand for Ron to shake while winking at Ron. "How have those centaur women been treating you?"

A thin bead of drool dripped from Ron's lips. The entire room just stared at him until his saliva touched down with the earth.

"Doom."

"Doom?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "That bad, eh?"

Suddenly Ron looked Harry squarely in the eyes, as if he had just realized he was there.

"Beware the red rider who dwells within the heart of the soul of one once beloved. From therein he shall bring destruction upon this world! Heed not the symptoms of the disease nor the chaos that it ushers in! Instead, focus upon that which dwells in the shadows, sowing the seeds of madness, debauchery, and eventual Armageddon!"

"Sounds kind of preposterous to me," Harry muttered to Hermione under his breath.

"What do you mean, Ron?" Hermione asked. She could barely keep herself from crying, seeing her Ron in such a pathetic state. The Ron she knew would've never used such vague terms while heralding impending doom.

Ron turned to Hermione and gazed soulfully into her eyes. For a second, Hermione thought she could see a shadow of the person that she once knew. Then he simply murmured, "Doomed."

He then smacked Harry on the cheek and walked back into the broom closet, closing the door behind him.

"Hey!" Harry yelled and rushed to the closet. "Nobody strikes Harry Potter!" But when Harry opened the door, Ron was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn!" Harry swore.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said consolingly. "We'll find him eventually."

"No! That's not it! There aren't any brooms here!"

"You know, Harry, you could actually learn a new spell for once. You know, one that cleans for you."

Harry's moustache bristled in indignation. "That's just preposterous!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

"I don't have a good feeling about this, Harry." Hermione said, a sinking feeling in her stomach beginning to grow.

Her fear only increased when she saw the bizarre creatures bounding towards the castle.

"We've got to make haste to the castle gate, Hermione. I don't like the looks of this!"

Harry sped towards the stairway, and Hermione ran after him, her heart racing wildly. Something in the air wasn't quite right; it was both dark and uncertain, like a black veil had fallen over reality, obscuring a great presence that had yet to be revealed. Or maybe she was letting her troubled emotions about Ron affect her judgment about everything else.

Then she heard high-pitched, blood-curdling screams emanating from the entrance of the castle.

Perhaps she wasn't imagining things after all.

Harry and Hermione quickened their pace, practically tripping and falling face-first down the stairs in their effort to reach the source of the screams as quickly as possible. When they finally arrived, complete and utter carnage met their eyes.

The students downstairs had obviously been caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the creatures. Blood and chunks of human flesh littered the corridor. The air was thick with the iron stench of blood, emptied bowels and bladders of the deceased. The beasts seemed to be everywhere, pouncing with incredible speed on anyone who looked even remotely vulnerable or weak. Those who hadn't already been torn to shreds were desperately fending for their lives, but only with moderate success.

Hermione gaped. These creatures were unlike anything she had seen or even read about. And she had read quite a few books in her time.

The slobbering monsters were about the size of a jaguar, although they lacked fur and resembled overgrown insects more than any feline. Their eyes glinted red with malicious glee as they sliced through the students with their razor-sharp claws that protruded from tentacles attached to their backs. Their jaws seemed to be locked in a permanent and ferocious grin, with tusks flanking the sides of their jaws. They moved like cheetahs, bounding and pouncing on all four of their legs, with their spiked tails undulating behind them. Their dark tan carapaces gleamed in the torchlight. These creatures appeared to be designed for the sole purpose of killing and delighting in every gory second of it.

Hermione pointed her wand at the nearest beast, and a fiery wolf exploded from the tip of the wand, howling as it honed in on the blood-thirsty creature. In a mere matter of seconds, the wolf engaged its adversary and tore the creature apart.

Harry, however, was having difficulties. Each one of his stupefy spells rebounded off of the creatures' carapaces, sometimes stunning random students instead of the monsters.

Hermione sighed. Honestly, when would Harry learn to use spells other than the most basic ones he'd learned years ago? He had all the magical might of a rabid rabbit.

"This is preposterous!" Harry sputtered.

"Harry, use summoning spells!" Hermione hollered amidst the fray of combat. "Those are more effective!"

"Summoning what now?" Harry asked confusedly. "Is that like a Patronus or something?"

"Harry, I don't think that'll work in this situation!"

"Hmph. Preposterous!" Harry flourished his walking stick which now functioned as his wand. His customary silver white stag leapt from it and charged the intruders, doing little more than making them hesitate for a moment before continuing to slaughter the students with hideous delight.

"I told you it wouldn't work, Harry!" Hermione shouted, her frustration beginning to build. Maybe it would be better just to stun Harry then and there so she wouldn't have to worry about friendly fire.

"Die, yer beasties of Hell!" Hagrid suddenly shouted from the castle entrance, brandishing his new, metallic automatic crossbow he had just purchased at Bob's Hunting Shack during his recent trip to southern Kentucky. A hail of crossbow bolts whistled through the air, striking almost every beast with pinpoint accuracy. But this display of Kentuckian technological prowess only served to enrage the creatures more. They darted towards Hagrid, rage evident in their inhuman, blood-red eyes.

But this didn't intimidate Hagrid in the slightest. He tossed aside his crossbow and crouched down in a wrestler's stance. His eyes blazed with such rage that even the monsters paused before they could leap at him.

"Are ye afraid, yer scaly bastards?" Hagrid roared, spit flying from his lips. He flexed his muscles, causing his humble shirt to explode in a rain of cheap fabric, exposing his bulging pecks and rippling abdomen.

The monsters began to edge away nervously from this unfettered display of masculinity. But Hagrid did not let them complete their retreat. He struck first, tearing towards the nearest beast and ripping off its head with one smooth motion, as if he had been fighting the creatures for years.

Hagrid continued his rampage, as if he were the very harbinger of death itself. But despite his monumental strength and brutality, there were simply too many of the little monsters. They began to swarm him, inflicting some minor wounds on him. Even the mighty half-giant appeared to be on the verge of being overwhelmed.

"No, Hagrid!" Harry shouted, more desperate and emotional than Hermione had heard him in months. "I'll save you!"

Oh, no, thought Hermione. This won't end well.

"It's monocle time!" Harry adjusted his monocle with newfound confidence. Suddenly, a brilliant light shot out from his monocle striking each of the beasts, which subsequently disappeared in a blinding flash of energy.

Suddenly, Hagrid was standing alone. His chest stained with the blood of the monsters, accentuating his already naturally manly aura.

"Harry?" asked Hagrid, confused. "What did ye do with the bastards?"

"I tore open a portal through the fabric of space and time itself!" Harry announced proudly. "They shall never trouble us ever again!"

"But . . . Harry . . ." Hermione asked tentatively. "Where and when, precisely, did you send them?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. I doubt it matters much, though."

"Uh-oh," Hermione groaned.

"Well, thanks fer saving me," said Hagrid. "Fer a second, I thought I was going ter be nibbled ter death."

"Anytime, Hagrid!" Harry chuckled and then looked at the blood, organ, feces, urine, and chunks of flesh scattered across the floor and sticking to the ceiling. Harry sighed sadly. "I think I'll need a broom."

Harry strode over to the broom closet, which was conveniently located nearby. When Harry opened the closet door, he gasped in astonishment.

"Ron! Whatever are you doing in this broom closet?"

Ron seemed not to register Harry's presence. He gazed vacantly ahead as he stepped out of the closet and proceeded to stand in the middle of the room.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked and ran towards him. "You've left your mother's closet. I'm so proud of you!"

When Hermione threw her arms around him, she sensed something was terribly wrong. And it had nothing to do with his blank, empty eyes, nor anything to do with his tangled, shoulder-length hair that seemed to have the remnants of a bird's nest in it. It also had nothing at all to do with the putrid stench emanating from the tattered knee-length robe he was wearing.

No. Something much more terrible than Ron's repulsive appearance and smell troubled Hermione. His fundamental Ron-ness had disappeared entirely.

"So," Harry outstretched his hand for Ron to shake while winking at Ron. "How have those centaur women been treating you?"

A thin bead of drool dripped from Ron's lips. The entire room just stared at him until his saliva touched down with the earth.

"Doom."

"Doom?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "That bad, eh?"

Suddenly Ron looked Harry squarely in the eyes, as if he had just realized he was there.

"Beware the red rider who dwells within the heart of the soul of one once beloved. From therein he shall bring destruction upon this world! Heed not the symptoms of the disease nor the chaos that it ushers in! Instead, focus upon that which dwells in the shadows, sowing the seeds of madness, debauchery, and eventual Armageddon!"

"Sounds kind of preposterous to me," Harry muttered to Hermione under his breath.

"What do you mean, Ron?" Hermione asked. She could barely keep herself from crying, seeing her Ron in such a pathetic state. The Ron she knew would've never used such vague terms while heralding impending doom.

Ron turned to Hermione and gazed soulfully into her eyes. For a second, Hermione thought she could see a shadow of the person that she once knew. Then he simply murmured, "Doomed."

He then smacked Harry on the cheek and walked back into the broom closet, closing the door behind him.

"Hey!" Harry yelled and rushed to the closet. "Nobody strikes Harry Potter!" But when Harry opened the door, Ron was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn!" Harry swore.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said consolingly. "We'll find him eventually."

"No! That's not it! There aren't any brooms here!"

"You know, Harry, you could actually learn a new spell for once. You know, one that cleans for you."

Harry's moustache bristled in indignation. "That's just preposterous!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

"Well, I'm off to find a bloody broom," Harry grumped while stomping out of the entranceway. Hermione was glad to see him leave. His pointless search for a broom would keep him distracted long enough for her to straighten things out.

Now, it was time for some real magic . . . .

Hermione waved her wand with confidence. _"Corpus cleanupicus!_"

The blood, guts, and other various innards of now deceased students and monsters heeded her command, reassembling themselves into their previous forms. In a matter of seconds, there was a neat line of corpses of students lined against one of the walls and monsters against the other.

It almost looked as though the students were ready to spring back to life, attend classes, make love in surprisingly awkward locations, engage in the usage of illegal substances, and partake in whatever assorted activities considered typical of teenagers in modern first world countries.

But, unfortunately, these teenagers would never make poor choices ever again. For, although Hermione's magical prowess was impressive, creating spells to bring people back from the dead would require hours of magical research often frowned upon in most civilized societies.

Stupid civilized societies and their arbitrarily assigned moral values! Magic could be used for such great, yes, terrible, yet great things!

Hermione shook her head furiously. She really needed to stay focused and ignore that voice in the back of her head that suggested such . . . improper ideas.

Just then, Professor McGonagall barged into the entranceway, looking flustered.

"What in Heaven's name is going on here? I heard more screaming than usual down here!"

Her eyebrows practically disappeared underneath her bangs when she saw the rows of corpses lined up against the walls.

"Good Heavens! _Another_ magical mishap!" She immediately turned to Hermione. "Where's Potter?"

"Looking for a broom. Don't worry, professor. He didn't do anything this time."

"Then whatever happened?"

Hagrid chimed in. "These beasties of Hell came outta nowheres and startin' chompin' on our students."

"Oh, my! How terrible!"

"Good thing Hermione and Harry were here, or thee beasties woulda been picking their teeth wit' mah bones!"

"So the situation was contained?"

"Of course, professor! Thanks to those two!"

"Very well." Professor McGonagall studied the row of dead students. "Hmm. We'll just write this off as a magical mishap."

"Professor," Hermione said tentatively, "I'm not sure it was a _magical_ mishap."

"What do you mean, Granger?" McGonagall stared grumpily into Hermione's eyes, obviously irked that someone was daring to challenge her plan to bury the incident. "This isn't the first time mad creatures have gotten loose and slaughtered students!"

Hagrid blushed and looked down as his feet, shuffling them in embarrassment.

"Sorry, ma'am. Was an accident. I swears. Didn't know thestral raccoons had such a yearnin' for human flesh. But it wasn't me this time! Honest!"

"Don't worry, Hagrid. I'm not blaming you. We've all had our 'magical mishaps' in our time as professors."

"Focus, Professor McGonagall!" Hermione interrupted. "I'm worried that these creatures are really different from what we've seen before! They're immune to magic!"

Professor McGonagall gave Hermione a long, hard stare, as if to say, "Preposterous!" At least, Hermione knew Harry would have said so in the same situation.

"That's absurd, Granger! Wherever could they come from?"

Hermione shrugged. "Science gone wrong, perhaps. Maybe someone was conducting genetic experiments and they accidently went too far and escaped their laboratory—it happens a lot in horror films."

Hagrid grunted in confusion. "What's a 'science'?"

McGonagall frowned so hard it turned her aged forehead into an ocean of wrinkly waves. "Don't use confounding muggle terminology, Granger. Speak magic, for all our sakes!"

Hermione sighed. "I'm saying they could have escaped a chamber of secrets, of sorts, where people were conducting the muggle equivalent of magical tests on creatures."

"Good Heavens!"

"Hmm." That didn't quite make sense, though. Hermione stared at the remains of the beasts. They had been immune to magic. It seemed unlikely muggles could have unknowingly created creatures resistant to magic. Maybe some other factors were afoot here.

Preposterous factors.

God. Hermione grimaced. Now she was even _thinking _it.

As if summoned by the thought of "preposterous," Harry entered the entranceway, brandishing a broom.

"I've found a broom!" He announced proudly. Ginny strutted in a second afterwards. "And my love interest!"

"Ginny! What are you doing here?" Hermione grimaced. Now Harry would be even more useless than normal, now that he was going to be distracted by that redheaded sex-muffin.

Ginny rolled her hips suggestively and purred in a silky voice. "Why, I was just _so _worried about poor Harry."

Hermione scowled. How the bloody Hell could she make a simple wizard's robe look like a new line of clothing from Victoria's Secret? Couldn't she at least have the decency to save her risqué display of cleavage and skin for Harry alone?

Ginny continued. "Harry doesn't have any decent women here to keep him company. So I decided to visit him."

Hermione snorted. "You were horny, eh?"

"Yes," Ginny admitted unabashedly. "And I need my man to fulfill my . . ." Ginny licked her full, red lips slowly and sensually, "more carnal urges."

"You don't really need to tell us that, Ginny. That's a little more than I want to know about you."

"Oh, I see. I'd be willing to discuss both our love lives, but . . . oh, yes. You don't have one at the moment! Your boyfriend has locked himself into a closet! Poor Ron. It seems you'll drive any man insane. Even my brother!"

"Shut up, Ginny." Hermione gripped her wand with a death grip. She knew about a dozen curses that made _avada kadavra_ look like child's play. Even _corpicus cleanupicus _wouldn't be able to recover all of her remains when she was done with her!

"Ladies, I find all this bickering rather pointless," Harry said tentatively. "Perhaps we should pursue other activities instead of wasting our time insulting each other."

For once, Harry was right. Hermione loosened the grip on her wand. Anyway, if Ginny truly frustrated her, there existed much better, less-incriminating ways of removing her from her life.

"Harry dear, how about we make good use of our time." Ginny slipped into Harry's arm and guided him toward the broom closet. "Didn't you say the broom closet was empty?"

"Why, yes, I did, dear."

"Good," purred Ginny. "How about we make use of it!"

Harry's mustache seemed to perk up at these words. "Well, the bodies have been cleaned up already."

"Yes," Ginny smiled, raw lust shining in her eyes.

"But isn't the broom closet a little small?"

"Oh, with a little magic, you can make it _expand_."

"I think something is already expanding," Harry chuckled knowingly.

Hermione felt like vomiting.

"Stop that, you two!" Hermione stomped her foot on the ground, outraged. "This is no time to be going to a broom closet to make love!"

"Why's that?" Ginny grinned mischievously. "_Carpe diem_, I always say."

"Well _carpe_ some other _diem_!"

"Hermione," Harry said in a soothing voice. "This is just a natural process between a man and a woman. It's nothing worth being ashamed about or upset about."

"This is preposterous!" Hermione shrieked. "You have no dignity!"

"Oh, making love is one of the most dignified things upon this Earth. It is the fusion of two souls, two bodies, in a bond as deep as possible. It is, in essence, the fulfillment of the human experience!"

Hermione looked daggers at Harry and spoke every word as slowly as possible, so that her temper wouldn't explode and inflict numerous casualties. "Harry. You. Are. Trying. To. Make. Love. In. A. Broom Closet. After. The. Massacre. Of. Many. Of. Our. Students. IN THE SAME ROOM IT TOOK PLACE IN!"

Harry shrugged. "The circle of life. Life is created where life was once extinguished. Is it not beautifully poetic, Hermione?"

"Now, Hermione. Don't be so jealous." Ginny interrupted. "After all, you could join us if you want."

Harry's mustached perked up a little more.

Hermione's face turned crimson. "I'd rather make love to a centaur!"

"I could arrange that if you wanted!" Harry chimed in. "It would help foster relations between our peoples!"

"Harry, darling," Ginny said soothingly, "I don't think she was serious."

"Oh." Harry's mustached drooped in disappointment. "Well, then. Off to do my duty."

The couple giggled as they disappeared into the broom closet. They at least had the dignity to close the door behind themselves.

Hermione just gaped, barely believing the level of perversion Harry and Ginny had sunk to.

Hermione rounded on Professor McGonagall and Hagrid. Both of whom had simply been watching the whole time.

"Well! Aren't you two going to stop them?"

"They're not students anymore. It's no longer our problem," McGonagall answered.

"Uh . . . then why are you two still here?"

Awkward squelching noises began to emanate from the broom closet.

"Ah! Reminds me of my youth! Making love in the broom closet. So romantic!" McGonagall giggled like a school girl before departing.

It would take years for Hermione to remove that mental scar from her consciousness.

Hermione was startled when she looked at Hagrid. There were tears in his big eyes, streaming down into the great black, furry mass that was his beard.

"I always wanted to make love in a broom closet. Never got the chance, though. 'Fraid I was too big for 'em."

Hermione patted Hagrid awkwardly on the arm. "There, there, Hagrid. You heard what Ginny said about expansion. Could make someone your size, if that's what you wanted."

"Thanks, Hermione." Hagrid replied, wiping tears from his eyes. "You're a good friend."

The squelching reached a climax and abruptly ceased.

Hermione muttered disgustedly, "Preposterous."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

Harry and Ginny staggered out of the closet. Harry's top hat was slightly askew and Ginny's hair was tangled. They giggled in unison and came up to Hermione.

"Now that wasn't preposterous," said Harry.

"I beg to differ," replied Hermione. "Now I will forever associate broom closets with illicit sex acts."

"Mmm," said Ginny, adjusting her risqué robes so that her breasts threatened to spill forth from her robes. "Sounds delicious."

"I give up!" Hermione stomped away out of the castle to get some fresh air that wasn't polluted by the stench of sex. The afternoon Sun baptized the rolling green hills with warmth and golden light. The weather showed no signs of shedding any tears of sympathy or remorse for the slaughtered students of Hogwarts. After all, it happened rather frequently.

Hermione gritted her teeth. How could those two be so flagrant in their disgustingly happy sex lives? Didn't they care how much it hurt to see Ron a drooling idiot who lusted after beast-women? But Harry could not see beyond his oversized moustache and Ginny openly mocked her for no reason Hermione could discern.

"Ginny! You whore!" Hermione yelled and pulled out her wand, aiming it at the nearest tree. It exploded, showering several nearby students with a rain of splinters and branches.

One student cried out in agony, "My spleen!"

"Dear God, my appendix!" howled a first-year boy.

"My breasts!" screamed a buxom seventh-year student.

"Fix your own damn breasts!" yelled Hermione. "You should have the magical prowess to do it. That is if you weren't spending all your time in broom closets!"

"Hey," one of the prefects had grabbed Hermione by the shoulder. "What do you think you're doing? You could've killed those students there!"

Hermione brushed off his arm angrily. "I could've. But I didn't."

"That's not the point! Magic is a great responsibility. It should be wielded with care and wisdom."

Hermione gazed into the prefect's deep blue eyes. He was a handsome seventh-year boy. He was tall, and his brow was furrowed with intelligence. He was well-built and had a strong, confident jaw.

Hermione's heart fluttered in the presence of the handsome young man. For a moment, she lost the words to express herself. He had stolen the very words from her mouth.

"Are you listening to what I'm saying?" he demanded.

"Yes," said Hermione quietly, still entranced with the man's beauty.

"Then go help those students that _you_ injured."

"They can help themselves," Hermione insisted stubbornly.

"No, I really think they need some help." He looked over to the victims with concern. "_Especially_ that appendix boy."

Hermione snorted. "Well, it's not my fault they don't know how to defend against a bit of shrapnel."

"I don't know who you are, and I don't really care, but you _need_ to take responsibility for your actions." The gorgeous prefect began to reach for his wand.

Out of reflex, Hermione stunned him. The crimson bolt of light collided with him, sending him flying backwards and robbing him of his consciousness.

Hermione squealed in embarrassment. "Now what will he think of me?"

"Oh, what should I do?" Hermione rushed to his side. If she revived him then and there, he would remember who had assaulted him. Then any hope of a romantic relationship would be dashed.

Good thing there was magic to overcome awkward relationship issues.

Hermione rolled up her sleeves and pointed her wand at the prefect's flawless young face.

"Obliviate!" With that single spell, Hermione wiped his memory clean of the incident, even the part with her injuring three students with a reckless spell. Then, once he woke up, she would be free to approach him in a much more charming and dignified fashion. With that "first" encounter, she would rekindle some romance in her life. Who said there was no such thing as a redo in life?

But then the agonized screams of her victims jarred her back to reality. Appendix Boy was still wailing about his missing vestigial organ.

Hermione ran over to her victims. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you guys! I was just so angry!"

"You crazy bitch!" cried Buxom Blonde. "You almost killed us!"

"Did I? I'm sorry! Please, please, let me help you!" Hermione pointed her wand at Buxom Blonde's bleeding breasts.

The crimson bolt that erupted from it was not intended to heal. Buxom Blonde lost consciousness to the spell. Spleen Man and Appendix Boy barely had time to scream in horror before they too fell before Hermione's flawless wand work.

Hermione grinned. Now they were entirely at her mercy and they would be remembering events according to her interpretation. A little bit of historical revision never hurt anyone. Especially Hermione.

But before she could begin work on her masterpiece of memory manipulation, she heard munching sounds coming from the direction of the handsome prefect. She turned around and, to her astonishment and disgust, she saw yet another one of those strange beasts.

It looked up guiltily at her like a raccoon being caught rummaging through a trash can. But instead of a trash can, the beast was going through the prefect's body, gnawing on his head like a bag of moldy fast food fries, long forgotten by humanity.

Hermione shrieked. "Get off of him! Shoo! Shoo!" The beast tried to simultaneously drag the prefect's body away while retreating. Furious, Hermione gestured her wand at the ground underneath the beast, which was subsequently swallowed up by the earth.

She hurried to the dead prefect's side. He looked a lot less gorgeous without his head. She sighed. There went another love interest. And it had had such promising beginnings.

But danger was afoot in the form of a fresh horde of beasts. The creature that had just munched on her love interest like a bag of Cheetos must have only been a scout.

"Oh, no," Hermione said, "I hope Harry brought some extra monocles."

A whole gaggle of the monsters were bounding and slithering towards her and the castle. And this time they had diversified their work force.

The jaguar-sized creatures from earlier had returned in greater numbers and were leading the charge. But behind them slithered an entirely new type of abomination. These creatures were upright and at least eight feet tall. They looked like large snakes with their frontal halves upright. They had arms approximately where humans would have them, but these ended with giant scythe-like claws. A diamond-shaped hood extended from the back of their heads, giving them a vague resemblance to a cobra. Their armored carapaces glistened a shade of brown, much like the previous critters. Deadly sharp spikes protruded along the entire length of their backs. And their eyes glowed crimson with hunger and hate.

Hermione felt a sinking sense of despair at the sight of the impending doom. Direct magic had little effect on them. Such a large mass of creatures would be hard to defeat. If only there was some sort of way to use magic indirectly against them . . . . Then her gaze fell on the three unconscious figures of Spleen Man, Appendix Boy, and Buxom Blonde. Her mouth twisted upwards into a cunning grin.

Hermione pointed her wand at Spleen Man, exclaiming, "Travestyagainsthumankindicus!" Spleen Man's limbs twisted and changed. Fur and wings sprouted from him until his human, spleen-less body transformed into that of a mighty scorpion-tailed, winged manticore.

"Spleen Man! I choose you!" The transfigured student heeded Hermione's command with the power of a little magical suggestion (completely legal) and zoomed towards her side, prepared to defend Hermione to the death.

She then turned her wand against the youthful, innocent form of the first-year Appendix Boy. "Heinoustranformationify!" Appendix Boy's shape shifted and twisted, becoming that of an Alaskan grizzly bear. He, too, came to Hermione's side.

Then it was Buxom Blonde's turn for some magic of questionable ethical value. Her well endowed figure shifted into that of a deadly griffin, which joined the merry transfigured troop of terror.

Hermione rushed to the castle gate and barged through the door, yelling with a magically enhanced voice, "There are more coming! Prepare yourselves if you don't want to get eaten alive!"

Harry, unperturbed by this announcement, said, while looking at his redheaded sex muffin, "Oh, I could eat something right about now."

"You're always such a hungry boy," Ginny replied with a twinkle of raw lust in her eyes.

"Take this seriously!" Hermione exclaimed. "This isn't some kind of porno!"

"It isn't?" asked Harry, genuinely confused. "I thought that's why you have those beasts behind you. Thought you were taking my advice about expanding your sexual horizons."

Hermione felt at a complete loss for words and seriously contemplated letting the beasts just eat everyone.

Hagrid descended the nearby stairway, now clad in a fresh shirt after the untimely demise of his previous one.

"More of the deadly beasties?" Hagrid growled.

"Yes, Hagrid."

Hagrid's muscles bulged and his shirt exploded in a shower of fabric once again. He caressed his crossbow lovingly.

"Then it's huntin' time."

Just then, the "beasties" roared through the gate but were met by the gigantic, menacing presence of Appendix Boy in bear form. He let loose an ear-shattering growl and then proceeded to open his mouth, letting loose a torrent of flames that scorched the oncoming monsters.

"I taught you well," said Professor McGonagall, a proud tear in her eye.

"Thanks, professor." Hermione replied, satisfied that her hours of endless practice had yielded effective abominations.

"Spleen Man! Buxom Blonde!" Hermione ordered. "I choose you! Harass them from the sky!"

The students, now subject to the power of magical "suggestion," leapt into the air. They weaved back and forth, picking up random monsters, tearing their heads off, bashing them against the castle walls, or simply dropping them, disrupting the monsters' attack formation.

The students, professors, and Hermione's magical minions managed to mince many monstrous malicious manifestations moving menacingly into the castle. Their numbers dwindled quickly and it appeared as though victory was near.

But then the most fearful noise rolled in frighteningly from the foreboding far forest, so much so that the very ground shook.

"Sweet saucy sausages!" screamed a startled student.

Yet another type of beast had decided to join open season on the Hogwart's students and faculty. These beasts were three times the size of cave trolls and weren't any better looking. Their hardened hides shimmered in the daylight. They walked on four tree-trunk sized legs and had two humongous scythe-like blades protruding from their arms. Their charge towards the castle might as well have been the sound of an earthquake.

The students looked up, and one dour dormitory dweller despaired, "Dumbledore's doughnuts! Devilish demons are descending downwards!"

The devilish demons as designated by the dour dormitory dweller were swooping down from the sky onto the hapless students. They resembled gigantic worms with bat wings that had heads at each end. The lower one spewed out corrosive green acid at the decidedly doomed denizens of Hogwarts, guaranteeing that someone would need to be casting _corpuscleanupicus_ again.

The fate of Hogwarts seemed to be sealed.

But, then, when all appeared lost, Hermione, through one of the freshly opened holes in the ceiling, saw something quite unexpected.

A large starship, shaped like a battleaxe bristling with weapons, materialized in the sky overhead. And then it opened fire.

Hermione, in disbelief, uttered softly, "Preposterous."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

With the rather inexplicable arrival of the starship overhead, the monsters turned their attention to the distinctly non-magical opponent. But the starship's bristling weapon batteries were not just for show. They made quick work of the flying worm beasts and proceeded to turn their guns against the writhing, snake-like creatures, who attempted to return fire with their spikes against the ship, but they soon suffered the same fate as their flying brethren.

While this was happening, Hermione had to contend with the elephant-sized beasts who, lacking any means to strike their aerial opponent, had continued their ruthless assault against the students. One particular student with slightly reddish hair was having a bad time. He had been cornered by one of the monsters, and his fate seemed sealed. When the monster flicked him into the air with the intent of swallowing him whole, his fate was even more sealed. Thus, Hermione felt only a slight prick of her conscience when she struck him midair with a transfiguration spell. A moment later, after consuming the rather unfortunate student, the head of the beast exploded in a warm shower of gore.

Hermione smiled with satisfaction while wiping a stray fleck of blood off of her cheek. She was quite proud of her quick thinking and pinpoint accuracy that had allowed her to transform the unfortunate student into a human bomb.

"Brian! No!" wailed one student, tears in his eyes. "You always had bad luck!"

Hermione, seeing the anguish of a fellow human being, decided to come up to him and offer consolation.

"I don't know your name, but if what you say about Brian is indeed true, it was only a matter of time before he died. Take solace in the fact that he died protecting others."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

"Yes?" Hermione always found humans more confusing than books. However, undaunted, she tried her somewhat dull people skills once more.

"What's your name?" she asked in a tone she hoped was soothing.

"Greg." He replied through sniffles. "I was named after my grandfather. He fought in the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He was killed before I ever met him, but my father always talked about how brave he was. Wouldn't let anyone or anything intimidate him."

The student was fairly young, so Hermione imagined that most people would feel something like compassion for his misery. Yet Hermione felt a degree of uncertainty as to what to say to him. Naturally, she opted for something that sounded like it came from a book.

"Now, Greg, I want you to think of your grandfather. I'm sure he was a brave, good man."

"Yes," he sniffled pathetically while rubbing his red eyes.

"I don't think he would want to see his grandson sobbing like a two-year-old who had his teddy bear taken away from him."

"No." Greg hung his head. "I suppose not."

"Exactly!" Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly and forced a smile on her face for the blabbering idiot. Just then, a new opponent made its way into the hall. It was another one of those gigantic, bladed creatures.

Hermione pointed her wand at Greg.

"Goodbye, Greg."

"What?"

A white blast hit Greg, propelling him towards the creature. A second blast followed a moment later. Greg, the grandson of a good man and a friend to a rather unfortunate Brian, became the latest brand of monster chow—_explosive monster chow!_ Hermione snickered at the thought.

Then Hermione saw the horrified expressions of the students surrounding her. She then cleared her throat awkwardly in the silence.

"Farewell, Greg. You were a good guy."

"No he wasn't!" shouted one of the students with a rather unusual and distinctive hat set at a douchey angle upon his head. "Greg was an asshole! He stopped giving me beer money!"

A nearby female student, presumably his girlfriend, elbowed him in the side.

"Shut up, Steve! You never paid him back anyway! Oh my God! You are such a scumbag!"

"Jeez, Stacey! Get off my case! You're the scumbag!"

Meanwhile, the starship had launched numerous smaller vessels. Some of these appeared to be fighters while others looked like transports. One of these transports swooped in low and lowered a ramp. Out of it came several men in armored suits with massive rifles.

One of the men in full armor with a distinct skull on the visor gestured at the entrance of the castle, sending several of the men to stand guard there. Afterwards, his visor swished open, revealing the most beautiful countenance Hermione had ever beheld.

The angels themselves could not have crafted a more perfect, more precious, more desirous face even if they had been given all the precious metals and materials of the earth as their medium. Surely pilgrims from all nations and beliefs, if they were privileged to know of this man, must have journeyed weeks—no—months to bask in the warm, sublime radiance of this man's magnificence! Surely those pilgrims would find their proof of a divine being in this man's very existence! How pure! How divine! Words could not encompass the glory of being in this man's presence!

"Jim Raynor at your service, miss. Don't know why the hell I'm here, but I'll handle your little zerg problem."

"Magnificent!" Hermione muttered under her breath, unable to contain her praises within the fragile realm that is one's mind. His voice was like angel song, every word spoken like the most tender of kisses or the most delicate of rose petals drifting in a gentle autumn wind. Surely no one had mastered the simple human function of speech as superbly as he. Hermione couldn't help but think what else he had mastered . . . .

"Whatcha say, darlin'?"

"Nothing." Hermione replied swiftly, flushing red, for she had embarrassed herself before this divine being, and yet he had even retained the mercy to call her "darlin.'"

"Okay, then. I'll get this castle secured, and then I will call in a medivac to help with your casualties."

"Thank you," Hermione said as seductively as possible. Raynor raised his eyebrows but went on to talk with several of his troops nearby.

Now that the supernaturally beautiful presence of Raynor had left Hermione's immediate vicinity, she could once again regain her composure and assess the situation. Thanks to Hermione's quick thinking and a certain Brian with bad luck and a certain Greg who was a good guy, not so many students were hurt and all the monsters were dead.

Hermione grinned. It felt good to be a true hero. What would they do without her? Greg and Brian would have died meaningless deaths, and everyone else would be dead, too, had it not been for her ingenious implementation of improvised explosive students. Sure, they may not have recognized the necessity of her decisions at the moment, but time would heal all wounds and foster better understanding. And if not, there was the _obleviate_ charm and, of course, other means of restricting information flow . . . .

Hermione put on her best smile and began to heal students who had suffered wounds. Some did not let her point her wand at them, and she found this most irksome. She was tired of being misunderstood.

Eventually, Harry's voice came from behind Hermione while she was diligently reassembling a somewhat nibbled upon arm of a student.

"Guess who I found!"

"For the love of all that is holy, Harry, don't tell me it's your love interest!"

"No, silly! It's my former nemesis once part of a wizarding terrorist organization turned into an okay acquaintance!"

"Draco?" Hermione asked incredulously and turned around. Draco, much like Ron, looked somewhat different. He seemed to have gained a few pounds . . . in tentacles and slime.

"Harry, I think there might be something wrong with him."

"Preposterous!" Harry's mustache bristled with such indignation that it might as well have been an oddly shaped porcupine attached to his upper lip. "Hermione, I think you're letting his dark past color your perception of him. He's a changed man!"

"Indeed." Hermione hoped that her flippant tone would penetrate Harry's thick skull and encourage him to take a better look at his blond former nemesis. It did not.

"I never pegged you for the grudging type, Hermione."

"I used to think you weren't stupid. Silly me."

"Oh, Hermione, Hermione. You are shackled with the chains of prejudice and hatred. Sever those bonds and join the land of the living, the loving, and the forgiving!"

"Damn it, Harry! He has tentacles!"

Harry gave her an odd look, as if she was a small child uttering a particularly nonsensical statement.

"Hermione, I think it's obvious why he has tentacles. Your naïveté astonishes me sometimes! I can't believe you never read about this! Well, I guess it's not in _Hogwarts: A History_;that is the only damn book you _ever_ talk about!"

"Because you still haven't bothered to read it! If you only did so, I could finally stop mentioning it!"

Harry's face contorted itself into the ugliest expression Hermione had ever seen upon it.

"I—will—never—read—that—damn—book!" The entire hall had fallen silent, terrified by the rage boiling behind Harry's eyes and the pure contempt in his voice. "Evil has many names. One of those names is _Hogwarts: A History_. If I could, I would hunt down every copy of that book and cast it into hell! There the books would be used to wipe the asses of demons every time they get diarrhea from feasting on the flesh of sinful, damned morbidly obese people! After that, the used sheets of it, still fresh and stinking of demonic shit, will be gathered in the lowest circle of Hell, where a bonfire will be made that will make a scent so repugnant that all the demons of Hell will beg for the mercy of swift death. And it will not be the scent of shit that will cause their anguish! No, it will be the stench of every single wretched word printed in that book, which was written by someone rivaling the pure evil of Satan himself! The demons of Hell will thus dig a new circle of hell, lower than any other, to imprison the disgusting stench of that work. But the memories of that book will give them nightmares so great that the demons shall never sleep again or otherwise risk shitting themselves out of sheer terror!"

"I didn't know you were so articulate, Harry."

"Let me finish!" Harry roared, his voice echoing throughout the hall.

"So, no, Hermione. I will never read that book. Hell can freeze over, thaw, freeze over again, be nuked, colonized by smurfs, and overrun with a plague of rabbits. But I will never read that book!"

Hermione was at a loss for words. She feared sending Harry into a murderous rage if she said anything further. Draco was also at a loss for words; however, this might have been owing to the somewhat tentacled nature of his mouth, which only seemed to be capable of producing a sympathetic _grawwwwwwwwwwwwwl _on behalf of Harry's rage.

Just then, Draco's head exploded.

Hermione would have been angered by it if she hadn't had magic to clean up everything. She looked to the source of what had caused his head to explode. It was Raynor, shining like a warrior of light in his armor. In his hand he held his still smoking weapon, with which he had smote the monstrously twisted Draco. Hermione feared that her heart would stop at the sight of the divine warrior in all his glory.

"Hey, I heard someone hollerin' about demons, shit and some kind of book, so I came on over to take a look, and then I saw him standing next to you. You guys are lucky that he didn't attack you. Be more careful next time."

"Why did you kill him?" asked Harry, still in a state of shock.

"He was infested, boy. I put him out of his misery."

"Infested? No he wasn't! He just transfigured himself to improve his sex life!"

"What now?" Raynor looked appropriately horrified.

"You know, some people really like tentacles. Especially the Japanese. I imagine he could have entertained quite a few ladies simultaneously, if he had wanted to. Or he might have wanted to star in a wizard porno."

"A wizard porno?" Raynor's eyebrows started retreating to the top of his skull. "Wizards have pornos?"

"Indeed! They are most spectacular! Better than anything that muggles can produce! And, trust me, tentacles are among the most tame of them."

"Merciful God," Raynor crossed himself, "preserve us all."

"So why did you have to kill him?"

"He wasn't transfigured, boy. I told you he was infested! Zerg use infested humans to do their dirty work! You could've become zerg chow."

"You didn't even try to de-infest him!"

Raynor gave a serious look.

"One does not simply de-infest someone."

"What if it were your girlfriend that had been infested?"

Raynor did not quite look Harry in the eyes.

"That would be different."

"Why?"

Raynor paused.

"Too late now. One does not simply resurrect the dead."

"More like one does not simply have a heart," Harry replied moodily. He then shed a few tears and used his sleeve to wipe off some Draco brains from his head. He probably didn't even know the spell for cleaning, Hermione thought, annoyed. He'd probably try to use _stupefy_ on his own head.

Harry carried on with his mourning for a little while before he looked up, a spark of determination and iron will in his eyes.

"Now I'm going to drown my sorrow. In boobs." Harry then raised his walking stick, and, with solemn gravity, yelled, "_Acio _love interest!"

Ginny came floating in a moment later, her transit through the air ending with her breasts squishing against Harry's chest.

"You summoned me?" said Ginny, perhaps uttering the words in the most erotic way they had ever been said.

"You bet I did. I've got Draco's brains splattered all over me, and I need some consolation. Some feminine consolation. In my pants."

"I'm willing to serve. Where this time?"

"The hat."

"Oh, the hat?" she purred while simultaneously sounding as if the word "hat" had given her an orgasm. "I _love_ the hat."

Hermione did not like where this conversation had gone.

Harry took off his large top hat. In front of everyone. Then he placed his foot into it, and was sucked into it like a vortex and vanished. Ginny gave a sultry giggle and coyly pretended to be embarrassed and then followed her mustachioed lover into the piece of headgear.

"I'm searching for a word for this situation," Raynor said, "and it's still escapin' me."

"Would it happen to be 'preposterous'?" Hermione replied.

"Yes! Exactly! That was completely preposterous."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

Hermione spent the next hour helping the wounded and making plans for the upcoming attack against the zerg hive, which Raynor had identified using the reconnaissance provided by his aircraft. So far, Hermione, still intimidated by the glorious aura of Raynor, had barely managed to speak more than a few sentences to him. She hoped, with any luck, that they would have some time alone together in the near future. Once they were alone, Hermione could simply speak her mind and erase his memory if she said anything embarrassing. Magic was the ultimate reset button, and if you reset the game of love often enough, you can eventually beat all of its levels.

Raynor turned to Hermione, looking up from a holographic map of the nearby area.

"We're about ready to begin the attack. Is that monocle guy still in his top hat? You should get him. We can use everyone we can get for the battle."

For the first time in a long while, Hermione was glad to be Harry's friend. He had provided her an excuse to talk to Raynor.

"Yes. I can go get him."

"Great. Once you're back, we should be about ready to begin the operation."

Hermione had faced many dangers at Hogwarts. Nonetheless, she felt an unknown terror coursing through her body at the prospect of entering the hat. Black as the abyss, it sat there, as if waiting for her to muster the audacity to encroach upon its territory. Much like the abyss, she had no idea what horrors it could contain. Tentacles, dungeons, and oceans of fluids of unknown origin could all lurk within. Harry had changed since he had graduated from Hogwarts. Most of those changes were not good.

But love could conquer all—even top hats.

Hermione closed her eyes and let her foot hover just above the top hat.

"For Raynor," she whispered before setting her foot down. She felt the magic suck her into the hat but found herself unable to immediately open her eyes. Alas, she had forgotten about her nose. She could not close that.

The smell of perfume permeated the air like a fog. It was so strong that it could have been classified as chemical warfare in certain countries. Hermione pried her eyes open. The perfume apparently was more than just a smell. It hung in the air like a small, imprisoned hot pink cloud. She could not see more than a few feet ahead of her.

Hermione coughed as the perfume overwhelmed her senses. A few seconds later, she started feeling a little light-headed, and her thoughts began to crinkle up like a wad of paper about to be thrown into a waste bin. Apparently it was not just perfume.

"Harry!" she called out. "We need to get going. Those zerg aren't going to kill themselves!"

No reply came.

"Ginny?" she asked the thick perfume cloud, which seemed determined not to reveal anyone or anything.

"Damn it! I don't have all day to go rummaging around your sex pad!"

Still no reply came.

Hermione pointed her wand ahead at the cloud.

"_Frigidum!"_ Hermione called out. The cloud immediately solidified and fell to the ground. Apparently, its solid form resembled hot pink Jell-O, which did not look very fun to step on. Hermione pointed her wand at it again. "_Jellosaurusrex magnus_!"

The hot pink Jell-O substance reformed itself into a small tyrannosaurus-rex.

"Find Harry. Bring him to me."

The creature let out a gelatinous roar and set out to pursue its victim. Even without the perfume pervading the air, Hermione could not see where Harry was. It truly was a vast top hat.

Hermione waited and waited. Her gelatinous beast did not return to her, which irked her. How could Harry have managed to defeat her creation? Maybe it had been Ginny.

Hermione lifted her wand again. "_Acio_ Harry!"

Nothing happened. But the summoning spell was not exactly hard to counter, even for someone as simpleminded as Harry. All one had to do was say "_acio_."

"Fine! I give up! I'll come to you!"

Hermione directed the wand at herself this time.

"_Umbra pulchra_!"

Hermione's limbs and body shifted into writhing shadows. In this form, she could cover a great distance very quickly. She shot through the vast hat at the speed of an arrow just loosed from a bow. She covered a sizable distance and zeroed in on Harry. When Hermione returned to her human form in front of him, he looked at her as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Hermione, what was that?"

"Magic, Harry. I would think that you would be used to it by now."

"I've never seen anything like that!"

"That's because you haven't learned anything beyond the elementary spell book."

"You know that books and I have a complicated relationship."

"I got that from your rant about _Hogwarts: A History_."

Just saying that name aloud elicited a scowl from Harry.

Harry was sitting on a massive, heart-shaped bed the same hot pink color of the perfume cloud from earlier. Harry's lower half was concealed by extraordinarily fluffy blankets. He was sitting upright, his bare, muscular chest glistening with sweat. A raccoon tattoo scurried around on his bulging left peck. On the raccoon's back flashed the scarlet number 341. Harry was also smoking something that looked like a cigar, but from its tip came the hot pink mist from before. Already, a new massive cloud was forming, and its intoxicating embrace was striving to liberate Hermione from typical human senses.

"Can you put that . . . 'cigar' out, Harry?"

"Why, Hermione?" He exhaled pink mist slowly and sensuously. "Afraid of a little experimentation?"

"No. I'm afraid of it affecting my mind."

"You need to relax and enjoy yourself, Hermione. Life is short. Nam taught me that."

"You weren't in 'Nam,' Harry. That was before you were born."

"What the hell are you talking about, Hermione? Nam is still going on."

"No, Harry. The Vietnam War ended in 1975."

"What the bloody hell is a 'Vietnam'? And it better not be something in _Hogwarts: A History_!"

"It's a country in Southeast Asia, Harry."

"Asia? Isn't that where Chinese food comes from or something?"

"Yes. From China."

"God, I hate China. It's the worst province in Canada. And all those pandas! I can't believe anyone can even survive there!"

"Canada isn't part of Asia, Harry. It's in North America."

"That's where America is, isn't it?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Glad we nuked those Yanks in the Revolutionary War. Put them out of their misery! As if you could exist apart from King and Country!"

"Harry, the United States is still a country."

"Well, yes, I suppose. But it's just an apocalyptic wasteland dominated by mutant beavers and mole people."

"There are still normal humans in the United States, Harry."

Harry snorted derisively. "Yeah, but they're just savages who sacrifice their children in the Hunger Games every year. Might as well be mole people, too!"

"Harry, did you learn anything in school before you went to Hogwarts?"

"Not much. The teachers hated me. The Dursleys told them to mistreat me as much as possible to put me in my place."

"You could have at least read books in the library in your free time."

Harry chuckled good-naturedly. "Oh, Hermione, you're such a joker!"

"What?"

"Muggles? Libraries? Hahaha."

"What's so funny? I don't understand."

"Muggles don't let orphans into libraries!"

"What are you talking about, Harry? Of course they do!"

"Dudley always told me that orphans weren't allowed into libraries!"

"No, Harry. They are allowed in libraries."

"But Dudley always said—"

"Dudley," Hermione interrupted. "_Dudley_ said."

Harry frowned. "Oh. Damn. Outwitted again. That Dudley is a cunning one."

"Sure." Hermione said, too tired to disagree. "By the way, what did you mean by 'Nam' if not Vietnam?"

"Nam, Hermione. Do I seriously have to explain myself?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

A sly smile crossed Harry's face.

"Don't tell me you've never heard about the country Nam. I guess it wasn't in _Hogwarts: A History_."

"No. It wasn't." Hermione was irritated that Harry, the man who believed America to be dominated by mole people and the Hunger Games, knew something that she did not.

"A few centuries ago, English wizards began to explore the magical world in all its glory. The search for new realms was exhausting, and one wizard, feeling tired after a long day of searching, stopped by his grandmother's house. Alas, his grandmother had been dead for months, and her decaying corpse had been nibbled upon by her cats. Because of this inconvenience, this wizard, whose name was Jacob Smithertons, had no one to cook for him, and he was a damn bad cook. Rather than try to cook anything the conventional way, he decided to use the materials that had already been given to him. Namely, a decaying corpse of an old woman and housecats."

Hermione looked at Harry with horror. Even she had her limits.

"Now, when I say that Jacob Smithertons was a damn bad cook, I mean it. He really had no idea where food came from or even the faintest trace of a clue what to do with it even if all the materials were provided and explicit instructions were given. But he did know that cats are full of meat, and he didn't exactly fancy them much. After all, they had nibbled on his grandmother. Also, he knew that the pantry was often involved in this mysterious 'cooking' process. Considering this, Jacob Smithertons opened the pantry door and looked at the many ingredients available to him, which had long since decayed, except for some flour. However, he figured that the cats were still fresh, and that flour plus meat would result in something like a sandwich. But Smithertons did not fancy cold sandwiches. He liked his meat cooked, but, as mentioned, he was a damn bad cook.

"Although he was a damn bad cook, he was not a damn bad wizard. He felt much more comfortable with a wand than a skillet. But he realized that he would need some cooking ware if he were to successfully conjure up a sandwich, so he threw all the cooking ware into the pantry along with the six cats. He figured he could bridge his gap in cooking knowledge with knowledge of magic. Still, he felt somewhat inadequate for the task. But he knew someone who knew something about cooking. Unfortunately, she was dead. But the dead cannot say no. So Jacob Smithertons threw his grandmother's corpse in along with the cooking ware, cats, and flour. He determined that he could simply magic the knowledge out of her and somehow apply it to the flour and cats to make a damn good sandwich.

"Since Jacob Smithertons was a damn bad cook, he decided he did not need such luxuries as an 'oven' or even a 'stove.' He figured the pantry was as good a place to begin sandwich production as any other. But he was missing something—fire. Jacob Smithertons had the vague idea that heat and fire might somehow be related to cooking. He thus decided that more was better. If normal fire could cook something, why not magic fire? He then cast magic fire into the pantry and closed the door and waited for his cat sandwich. Unfortunately, he might have glossed over a few details in the process of sandwich production."

"Oh, really?" Hermione rolled her eyes, but found that she had been gripped by Harry's story of wizarding cooking gone awry.

"A few moments later, he heard strange noises coming from the pantry. They were not cat noises, nor were they undead grandmother noises. They sounded more like a beaver gnawing on a tree while in the middle of a thunderstorm in the middle of a crowded city street. These noises were not the sound of sandwich creation. Something was amiss. Even Jacob Smithertons, a damn bad cook, could tell you that. He threw open the door, and he was immediately blinded by the brilliant light that struck him. Swearing and panicked, he cast powerful spells randomly into the pantry. A magical chain reaction ensued, and a powerful vacuum sucked him in.

"Miles away, in the nearby hamlet of Ratterton, a resounding explosion could be heard. An aquamarine mushroom cloud loomed over the horizon. When the villagers came to investigate, they only found a pantry surrounded by a crater five miles in diameter. When they opened the door, they discovered the dimensional gateway to Nam."

"Wait. Harry, how do we know that Jacob Smithertons did all that?"

"Easy. His talking head told us so."

"What?"

"They later found his head, which somehow survived the explosion and creation of Nam."

"Oh. Silly me. Should've known that."

Harry continued.

"Anyway, those pans that he threw into the pantry must have been enchanted. The cats had eaten a wizard's flesh, imbuing them with some magical properties. The house itself was enchanted to ward off muggles, and the grandmother was both a wizard and had been wearing magical jewelry when she died. Combine that with a splash of magic and wanton sandwich lust, and you have the formula for the creation of a pocket dimension.

"Harry, is it that dubious pink mist you're spouting out, or did you just seriously tell a story about a man who created a dimension from his grandmother's corpse, six cats, cooking ware, and a pantry?"

"And flour, Hermione. Don't forget the flour. And I've been to Nam. I've fought in Nam. I lost friends in Nam. After all the things I've seen, its creation story makes perfect sense to me.

"Nam is a land with clear blue rivers and rolling green hills. Its soil is fertile, and its women are even more fertile, if you know what I mean." Harry chuckled and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, during the time Nam was created, wizards were on the search for new lands to colonize. Because of this, they found Nam to be a particularly appealing place to settle down. They didn't even have to kill off any natives to do so. But then a magical fluctuation occurred shortly after the first few decades of settlement, cutting Nam off from our world. A few centuries passed by without any word from this country. When contact was finally reestablished, explorers discovered a place completely different from the initial settlements.

"There were two primary tribes. One tribe, the Jacobsons, believed that Jacob Smithertons was a prophet of the raccoon god Everisctheat. They sought to come closer to the raccoon god through observation of the Five Raccoon Tenants of Righteousness. They lived by a strict code, and would stone those who failed to uphold the raccoon way. Their perception of the raccoon god was that of a strict judge and warrior.

"The other faction, the Smithertons, believed that Jacob Smithertons was the incarnation of the raccoon god himself. Because the raccoon god had chosen to leave his pure, divine raccoon form in order to create Nam, they asserted that Everisctheat was a merciful, forgiving god willing to show compassion to imperfect humans. To show how compassionate they believed Everisctheat to be, the Smithertons decided to make war on the Jacobsons and show them true raccoon-based mercy.

"The explorers from England arrived in the midst of this holy war between the two factions and decided that they would try to intervene and force peace onto them through superior firepower. They, however, underestimated the passion of the raccoon-based belief systems. The war dragged on for decades. Finally, fed up with their incessant squabbling, the wizards decided to introduce them to Jacob Smithertons' talking head, which had been preserved through centuries by his inexplicable magic. He tried to tell them that both their raccoon belief systems were false, and that he had just been a man in desperate need of a sandwich. They did not react well to this. Both factions temporarily united to steal his head away from his wizard bodyguards, denouncing him as a demon and false prophet. They burned his head at the stake, cheering the spectacle on, both factions now reassured that he could not be the real Jacob Smithertons.

"Shortly thereafter, with no more 'false prophets' to burn, they decided to resume normal war activities. The wizards increased their involvement, and that is where I come in. I had just graduated from Hogwarts following that rather unconventional semester with Voldemort and all. Remember that, Hermione? Good times. Good times."

"Good times? We all almost died!"

"But we didn't! And that makes them good! I didn't even have to read much of anything that semester! And no homework assignments or tests! Best. Semester. Ever."

"I'd rather have a test than fight a dark lord."

"Well, I'm glad that you didn't go to Nam. You would've been a killjoy. Would've spoiled the whole experience."

"Why did you go to Nam?"

"I wanted to prove myself. When I was fighting Voldemort, I kept getting the feeling that I only survived because of lucky coincidences. As if my life were somehow a novel someone was writing. Ever get that feeling?"

"Not really."

"Well, it's probably because you're too busy reading _Hogwarts: A History_. But I got the feeling all the time. So I figured that I would set out to write my own novel, in a manner of speaking. I decided to join the Wizard Marines. They're like aurors, but more badass and with more boot camp. By the time I graduated, I was prouder and tougher than I had ever been. I didn't have to rely on coincidences anymore to survive!"

"But you still hardly know any spells."

"I just don't know all your nerd spells, Hermione. Sometimes muscles are all the magic you need. Anyway, after boot camp, I went to Nam. It was kind of like a camping trip. But with just a little bit more death and destruction. I met a lot of the natives. And then I killed a lot of the natives. Years went by, and I rose in the ranks of the Wizard Marines. Mainly that was because all my superior officers kept on dying, but I still appreciated the sentiment. After a few years of hard work and bloodshed, we finally forced a peace treaty on both sides. The Jacobsons and the Smithertons now both live in peace. Mostly because the majority of the young people are dead, and the remaining elders are just too tired to give a damn anymore. Finally, I was allowed to return home to my girlfriend's loving breasts."

"When did you get the tattoo?"

"Oh, I got it right after boot camp. Everyone in our squad got one. But I guess I'm the only one with it now who remembers it. All the others are dead or cursed. Bill stepped onto a magical landmine and turned into a manatee, and decided to join his people in the sea. Conrad exploded after eating an enchanted fruit. John got a killing curse in the face. Larry misread a native sign and walked off a cliff. A fanged raccoon attacked and poisoned Jack while he slept. Phil got wizard AIDS from a local brothel and now thinks he's David Bowie. William was sucked into a magical tear in time and space and was ripped into a hundred pieces. Matt entered a magical hat and never came back. Jeffrey wanted a drink of water and accidentally turned himself into a puddle. He's now part of the water cycle of Nam. Alex was hit with a curse and now thinks he's a squirrel. I visit him in the park from time to time.

"Then there's Jordan. He wanted to sneak past enemy defenses one day, so he turned himself into a bat. Unfortunately, he was never very good at transfiguration, so he accidentally set himself on fire while doing so. He tried to transform out of the bat form, but then ended up becoming a unicorn. With a hundred eyes on its head. This scared me, so I shot him with _stupefy. _That somehow turned him into a velociraptor with three heads that could breathe fire. He, of course, set the whole damn woods on fire, which attracted the attention of the enemy. We ran like hell and left him for dead. Later, we found out that the enemy captured him, ate him, and mounted his heads on a bathroom wall over urinals."

"That's terrible!"

"I know. It didn't match the theme at all. Very tasteless." Harry paused for a moment, thinking. "Ah! I forgot Kyle! He choked on a pretzel."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. And he was almost done with his tour, too."

Hermione shook her head. "Are you glad you went to Nam? After all that?"

"Yes. Best years of my life!"

"Okay, Harry. Whatever you say. I guess that you won't mind fighting the zerg today, then?"

"Of course not! Once you see your squad being attacked by fanged raccoons, you can handle anything!"

"Great. Get your shirt on and let's head out. Raynor is planning an assault on the zerg base."

"I can't. I'm waiting for my sandwich."

"What sandwich?"

Just then, from another top hat lying on the floor, Ginny materialized in all her voluptuous glory next to the bed Harry was lying on. She was clothed, but only in the strictest sense of the word. She wore perhaps the thinnest bra and thong ever conceived of by mankind. In her right hand, she bore a plate with a sandwich as large as one of her breasts.

"I brought your sandwich. And my lust." She turned to Hermione. "Are you joining us?"

"No, Ginny. I'm just trying to bring Harry up to the real world where he's needed. You can stay here. Whores aren't very useful on the battlefield."

Ginny laughed sensually, making her breasts jiggle. "Am I supposed to be insulted by that? You're so cute when you're single."

Hermione scowled, but refrained from answering. She didn't have time to lose her temper. Meanwhile, Harry was devouring his voluptuous sandwich.

"This is the best damn sandwich I have ever eaten!" he exclaimed, crumbs taking up residence in his gigantic moustache. Ginny leaned over him with a cat-like litheness and slowly, carefully licked off the crumbs.

"I love leftovers." she said with a sensuous twinkle in her eye. "You're such a messy boy."

Hermione threw up her hands in the air and turned around.

"That's it! I'm done with you two! I'm going back to the battlefield. Come or don't come. I don't care."

"Oh, we're cumming all right." Harry chuckled.

Hermione sighed and stomped away.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ginny called out. "I will be there."

"Then get dressed!"

"No need for that. I'm ready as I am."

"Preposterous!"


End file.
